Enchanted
by fjdisjcfc
Summary: As Albus Severus begins his first year at Hogwarts, Harry investigates a strange string of murders. After looking at the case, Harry realises the murderer is following a pattern - someone is killing the survivors of the Battle of Hogwarts, one by one.
1. The Pretty Snake

Albus' stomach lurched as he stepped onto the Hogwarts Express. Countless teenagers milled up and down the corridors, laughing, shouting, screeching, and in one case, hooting like an owl. It was exactly as Albus had pictured it from the descriptions that James had given him - loud, exciting, glamorous. Grudgingly, Albus turned his attention away from a pair of twins who were breathing fire to finding a seat. He had assumed that he would be sitting with James and his friends, but his older brother had vanished to the other end of the train and Albus had a funny feeling that he wasn't invited. He couldn't cramp his brother's style now, could he? His cousins were all in full compartments and probably wouldn't want him sitting with them, so Albus set off to look for someone to sit with.

Dragging his trunk down the corridor, Albus was dismayed to find that every compartment was full to bursting point. When Albus was certain that he would have to stand in the corridor for the duration of the trip, he found the only compartment in the train which wasn't full. In it, there was just one person. An older girl, looking to be either a Fourth or Fifth Year. She was leaning over a book, looking intensely absorbed by what she was reading.

"Erm… Hello?" Albus said feebly. "Every other compartment is full… Do you mind if I sit with you?"

The girl raised his head from the book and Albus' heart skipped a beat. Not only was she wearing a Slytherin tie, but she was very pretty. Her hair was almost black and very long, cascading around sparkling ocean blue eyes. Just looking into their depths, Albus could tell that she was very intelligent… but there was a hint of something else there too. A slight edge to her gaze… contempt, perhaps? When she saw Albus her lips curled, just for a moment, in a sneer. Intimidated, Albus started to back out of the compartment, muttering an apology.

Immediately, her face softened.

"No, stay," the girl smiled, flashing perfect white teeth. "I could use the company. What's your name?"

"I-I'm Albus," Albus stuttered, sitting down awkwardly. "Albus Severus Potter. What's yours?

"My name is Gabrielle Lestrange," Gabrielle said hurriedly. "You are Harry Potter's son, yes?"

"Yes." Albus sighed.

People always asked him about his father, and if it wasn't his father, it was his brother.

"You are very lucky to have a father such as yours," Gabrielle said, a hint of jealousy in her voice. "I never even knew my father… Or my mother."

"I hope I'm not being rude," Albus said timidly. "But was your mother… _Bellatrix _Lestrange?"

"Yes."

The single syllable was enough. Her face contorted as he said it, like it was poisoning her tongue.

A few minutes of silence passed until Gabrielle spoke again.

"So," she said, her smile back in place. "What house do you want to be in?"

"Gryffindor."

"Not Slytherin, then?" There was an amused tone to her voice.

"My family wouldn't… er… be best pleased if I was put in Slytherin." Albus admitted, choosing his words carefully.

"Slytherin, like all the Houses, has it's pros and it's cons," Gabriel explained. "The Gryffindors can be reckless, the Ravenclaws bigheaded, the Hufflepuffs boring. Slytherins have a reputation for being, well, evil, I suppose. But we are cunning and stick together, unlike some other houses. If you want to succeed, Slytherin is very good."

"You have a good point," Albus said, not wanting to offend her

"Yet you still don't agree with me." Gabrielle smirked.

How did he know that? Was he that easy to read?

"My entire family have been in Gryffindor for generations, and let's just say I don't want to be the one to break the tradition."

"Fair point."

Gabrielle went back to her book, leaving Albus staring out of the window, wondering whether he had offended her.

When the afternoon had darkened into dusk, and the dusk had deepened into night, Albus changed into his robes. Gabrielle gave him no privacy, and he felt a bit uncomfortable stripping off while Gabrielle just sat there.

After changing, Albus resumed looking out the window, which had gotten boring after six hours of observing bleak, mountainous countryside slip past the window.

"Are you looking forward to the feast?" Gabrielle said suddenly

Albus was shocked - this was the first time Gabrielle had spoken in hours.

"Yeah," Albus replied, his stomach doing somersaults - he couldn't believe that he would be arriving at Hogwarts in just a few minutes. "My Dad says that the food is the best he's ever had. Even Mum admits that Hogwarts food is better than anything Granny Weasley ever cooked. And she's excellent."

Gabrielle flinched at the mention of 'Granny Weasley'. Kicking himself, Albus remembered that it was his Granny who had killed Gabrielle's mother.

He began to apologise, but Gabrielle stopped him.

"It doesn't matter," Gabrielle said dismissively. "It's easy to forget."

Albus was relieved when, just a few seconds later, the train started to slow down.

"I… Er, I'll see you at the feast!" Gabrielle's face drained of colour and her eyes flashed in shock. "Bye!"

Her hand fumbling in her robe pocket, Gabrielle ran out of the compartment and vanished from view.

Albus was left, quite confused, on his own.

After a minute or two, when the train had practically stopped, Albus stood and decided to go and find Rose, who was starting Hogwarts as well. Eventually, he found her sitting with a group of giggly young girls. Albus noticed that they quickly stopped laughing when he knocked on the door.

"That's Harry Potter's son!" he heard one of the girls whispering in her friend's ear.

"Rose didn't say he was a looker!" Another giggled, her eyes examining him appraisingly.

Rose silenced them with an icy glare.

"Come on, Al," Rose stood up and grabbed her cousin's hand. "Let's leave _these_," she gave the girls a pointed look. "to themselves."

As she led him down the train, Albus realised that Rose was smiling mysteriously at him.

"What?" he asked.

"Oh," she said airily. "Nothing. Clara seems to like you."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I'm just saying that she likes you. Quite a lot." Rose smirked.

"Oh, give over, Rosie," Albus scowled. "You know I don't want a girlfriend. Stop trying to pair me up with your friends!"

"I don't see why you won't get one, Al," Rose muttered. "Clara's family is quite rich and she's nice when you get to know her. _And _she's a half-blood, so Grandpa Weasley won't kill you if you go out with her."

Albus snorted.

"Just stop trying to get me a girlfriend."

"Okay." Rose promised reluctantly.

Albus doubted she would keep to her word, but it was good enough for the moment.

"Right," Rose sighed, stepping off the train and onto the platform. "Now we've got that cleared up, let's go and find Hagrid. I haven't seen him since he gave us those ghastly rock cakes at Christmas, bless him."

Not surprisingly, Hagrid was rather easy to find. His gigantic figure towered above the hundreds of students bustling about on the platform.

"Firs' years, this way!" he called. "Firs' years, over 'ere!"

Albus followed Rose who was pushing her way through the crowds, occasionally stopping to greet one of her cousins or friends. When they reached Hagrid, there was already a small crowd of pale first years gathered around him. Several of them kept casting wary glances at the giant.

"Hagrid!" Rose called, tapping him on the waist (which was as high as she could reach).

Slowly, he turned around.

"Rose!" he exclaimed joyfully, his bearded face beaming down at them. "Lil Albus! I 'aven' seen y' for ages! How were those rock cakes I made for y' at Chris'mas?"

"They were…" Albus searched for the correct word. "Very interesting, Hagrid. Thanks."

"Tha's grea'!" he beard twitched - he was smiling. "Now, lets get goin'! Firs' years, this way!"

Hagrid led them out of the station, the small group of first years hurrying along, chatting excitedly in their guide's shadow. When they arrived at the school gates, everyone stared speechlessly up at the castle.

Although Albus had been there several times to visit his father's friends there, he couldn't help but be awestruck by it too.

Under the frosty autumn moon, Hogwarts made an intimidating, yet homely sight. The castle itself was the same as usual - a jumbled mass of turrets and towers, archways and gargoyles - except tonight it was bathed in milky moonlight. The Front Door stood wide open, throwing warm, golden light onto the lawn. Past the lawn, Albus' eyes were drawn to the lake. It was completely still, like glass, reflecting the star strewn night sky.

"This way, firs' years!" Hagrid had opened the gate and was striding towards the lake.

Practically having to run to keep up with Hagrid, the first years arrived at the shore of the lake. A few of them went green at the sight of the tiny boats, but the majority of them began to chat excitedly, pointing and gaping.

"Now, now," Hagrid protested half heartedly. "There'll be plenty of time for chatter later. Two a boa', make sure y'don' fall in though - someone did las' year and had a touch o' hypothermia. Nothin' Madam Pomfrey couldn' clear up, bu' it isn' good startin' the year ill, now, is it?"

The first years' excitement was barely effected by Hagrid's warning.

"It it true that there's a giant squid in the lake?" One girl asked, looking at Hagrid.

"Yeah," Albus answered automatically, speaking before he had even decided to. "I've seen it once."

"You've been here before?" A boy asked enviously.

"Well, yeah," Albus admitted, slightly embarrassed having everyone's attention on him. "My dad likes to visit his friends here. The Professors, Neville, Hagrid."

"Come on!" Hagrid interrupted them. "We'll be late f' the Sortin' if you lot don' get a move on!"

Some excited, some terrified, the first years got into their boats and began to row across the lake.


	2. The Sorting Hat's Warning

The journey across the lake that night was awful. When they set off in their little boats, a light pattering of rain fell on their upturned faces. Albus, who was sharing his boat with a rather handsome brown haired boy, who he thought was called Michael, pulled his cloak hood up so that the rain wouldn't wet him. And then, out of nowhere, it was like a dam had burst in the clouds above. Rain poured downwards in an endless stream, like a waterfall, soaking them to the bone immediately. Through the deluge, Albus could see virtually nothing - the tall towers of Hogwarts castle vanished from view, as did Hagrid and the other boats. Albus thought he could just about make out a dark shape next to him - the boy that he thought was called Michael.

"WHICH WAY DO WE ROW?" Albus roared above the hammering of the rain.

"I THINK I CAN SEE THE LIGHT OF THE FRONT DOORS!" the boy roared back. "LET'S ROW THAT WAY!"

Now that Michael said it, Albus could just discern a slight glow in the distance - it had to be Hogwarts.

"ROW!" Albus commanded, pushing his oar forward.

But then, a voice could be heard above the rain; a voice that was at once loud and quiet, chanting. The voice had a tone that Albus recognised - it was casting a spell, a powerful spell. His father's voice had taken the same tone only a few times in his life, but he remembered them all vividly.

Both him and Michael had stopped even trying to row, they were listening intently to the voice, even though they didn't have a clue what it was saying.

As if in answer to the chanting, the rain stopped and they could both see again. Albus looked around him at the other first years - they looked like a fleet of drowned rats. And then he looked back up at the castle and saw the source of the voice.

Professor McGonagall and his uncle Percy, who was the Transfiguration professor and Head of Gryffindor, stood silhouetted in the front doors, McGonagall's wand was raised above her head, pointing at the clouds which were now dissipating to uncover the star strewn night sky. Her face was livid with rage. Percy scanned the first years anxiously, and then, when he spotted Albus a look of relief flooded into his face.

"C'mon, then!" Hagrid ordered, looking anxiously at Professor McGonagall. "Lets get up to the castle an' get warm!"

The first years began to row, spurred on by McGonagall's gaze, which was flashing dangerously through her glasses.

"Why's she angry?" Michael asked quietly, casting McGonagall a terrified glance.

"She's just like that," Albus panted, pushing the oar forwards. "She's nice too though, you should hear what my dad says about her."

"What things?" They were nearing the shore now.

"Well, you know the Battle of Hogwarts?"

"Yeah, my Mum fought in it," Michael looked inquisitively at Albus. "I think your Dad knows her… Katie Bell?"

"Weren't they in the same Quidditch team or something?" Albus asked. "Anyway, back to McGonagall - my Dad says the entire battle couldn't of happened without her; which means that Voldemort would never have been killed." They both shuddered. "She chucked Snape out of the school and summoned the Order of the Phoenix. _And _she duelled Voldemort himself with Professor Shacklebolt and this old teacher called Slughorn!"

"She sounds cool," Michael breathed, awed.

By the time Hagrid had led the shivering first years up to the Front Doors, Albus and Michael were chatting animatedly with each other. Albus had learnt that Michael too wanted to be in Gryffindor and that he was a half blood.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall said curtly, flashing one of her half smiles at Albus. "It seems one of our older students thought it would be funny to try to drown the first years. Now, I need to go and open the feast. Professor Weasley will explain all to you."

"They nearly drowned _me_!" Hagrid growled, before following Professor McGonagall back into the Great Hall.

Professor Weasley led the group of first years across the Entrance Hall and stood before the doors, through which excited chatter could be heard.

"For those of you that don't know, there are four Houses here at Hogwarts - Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each has equally important values and traits. While you stay here, your house will be your family of sorts -"

But Professor Weasley was cut short - several of the first years had gasped and pointed at the far wall of the Entrance Hall. Looking at it, Albus saw that the entire wall was covered in names carved in some pearly white stone. They covered it entirely, from the top left corner, right down to the bottom right. He spotted some names that he recognised - Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape, his namesakes, Fred Weasley, his uncle, James Potter and Lily Potter, his grandparents, Sirius Black, his father's godfather… If he tried to read every name on it, he would likely be there till Christmas. But what his peers were looking at was not the names, but the word written in gold, blazing flames, which had appeared, hovering in front of the wall: REMEMBER.

"Ah," Professor Weasley said sombrely. "I see you have noticed the Memorial. Every name on there was a victim of Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters. It is there to ensure that their memory lives on, and is never forgotten. On that wall, there are the names of two thousand, five hundred and sixty-six witches and wizards who were murdered by them and the names of nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-eight Muggles who were hunted and slaughtered during their reign of terror. My brother Fred is on there. So are many of your grandparents and perhaps even uncles and aunties. Back then, things were much, much different. When Voldemort seized control, there was panic and confusion everywhere - people were terrified to say anything, lest they or their loved ones be the next to disappear. Hogwarts changed from a place of learning to little more than a prison camp - young witches and wizards were forced to commit acts of Dark Magic on each other; first years such as yourselves were often used for practising the Cruciatus Curse on, for instance. The Order of the Phoenix went into hiding, as did Harry Potter and his friends. Myself, I continued to work at the Ministry. I was foolish, I do not deny it; then, I had such an ambition and a lust for power that it blinded me to more important things, such as love and family.

"I'm sure you've all heard of the Battle of Hogwarts - the turning point in the war, when Harry Potter defeated Lord Voldemort himself. Many people think of it as a glorious day, yet forget the heavy casualties that we ourselves suffered. Brave, noble people died in defence of all they held dear. Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks, leaving behind their little boy, Fred Weasley, my brother, Colin Creevey, who only wanted to help, Lavender Brown, murdered by Fenrir Greyback - the list goes on and on."

The first years were completely silent for the first time that evening.

"Now, come," Professor Weasley adopted McGonagall's stern tone. "The older students will not wait forever."

His uncle tapped the doors with his wand and they slowly slid open, revealing a hall full of dozens of circular tables, with hundreds and hundreds of suddenly curious students sat around them. In the centre of the room, there was an area that was empty of tables, and was instead covered in a jet black scorch marks - Albus knew that the scorches marked the spot where Voldemort had been killed.

But Albus had no time to look closer at the spot, for Professor Weasley had hurried of up the Great Hall, weaving throughout the circular tables to the only long table in the room - the staff table. The first years lined up in front of the staff and Albus looked out on the sea of faces staring at them; he looked for James, and soon spotted him. Just looking at James, you could tell that he was easily the most popular boy in school. His table was packed with students, who all obviously idolised him. They all roared at his jokes and hung on every word he said. The girls all gazed at him adoringly, blushing when he turned his eyes on them.

And then Albus scanned the hall for Gabrielle, the girl who had been so nice to him on the train. At first he thought that she had gone, for he had looked on every table, but he still couldn't see her. But then he saw her, slipping, as if not wanting to be seen, from a side room. Casting nervous glances at the staff, she perched herself at the nearest round table and tried to blend in. Albus was curious as to why she was acting so suspicious. What was she hiding?

Further speculation was interrupted however, as Professor Weasley flicked his wand and the doors of the same side room that Gabrielle had come from parted to let an old, grey stool upon which sat an equally old and grubby hat, through. It was the Sorting Hat. Albus' old anxieties came back then - he forgot all about Gabrielle and her suspicious behaviour, and a terrible feeling of butterflies began inside him.

When the stool had hovered over to Professor Weasley and placed itself on the ground, the Great Hall quietened in anticipation, waiting, Albus knew, for the Sorting Hat's song. But it remained silent.

Eventually, it opened it's mouth and said in grave tones, "This year, I bring no song, but instead I give you warning. It is starting again, the tide of darkness is once more rising against you, and this time it will be greater than ever before. Stay strong, be united, and you may just survive."

At once, muttering erupted in the Great Hall; everyone looked quite frankly terrified at what the hat had said. The last time that the hat had seen fit to warn the school, Voldemort had been at his most powerful and dangerous.

McGonagall stood up and silenced the students with a loud bang and a burst of fire from her wand.

"Calm down!" McGonagall's voice was loud and stern as usual, but Albus was sure that there was a hint of fear in it. "The Sorting!"

"But, Professor-" someone yelled from a table near the back of the hall.

"Silence, McLaggen!"

Nobody spoke, yet they all cast worried glances at each other - what had the hat meant?

Percy broke the silence.

"Boot, Gordon!"

It took a few seconds for a boy to step forward from the line of first years, it seemed everyone had forgotten about the Sorting. When he sat down on the stool, the hat barely even touched his head before it screamed "HUFFLEPUFF!"

His peers continued to be called up, but he barely paid any attention - his mind was on the Hat's warning and Gabrielle's suspicious behaviour. Could the two somehow be related? His mind made up story after story, each more improbable than the last, to explain the Hat's behaviour. Could Voldemort himself be back? Could he, even now be gathering his followers? It was unlikely, but…

"Potter, Albus Severus!"

Albus snapped out of his thoughts and stepped forward towards the stool, his stomach once again dropping.

He sat on the stool and began to chant in his head, "Not Slytherin… Not Slytherin… _Please_, not Slytherin."

When the Sorting Hat touched his head, it took no time at all.

Loud and clear, it roared, "SLYTHERIN!"


	3. Murders

_The moment Harry Potter stepped off of the lift into the Auror Office, he knew something was wrong. The hall, full of cubicles, seemed to buzz with activity. Aurors hurried to and fro, talking in strained voices. Harry could feel the fear in the room. _

_It was only a moment before a young Auror who had only just passed her tests spotted him._

"_Sir!" she seemed collected, but a little worried.. "There's been a murder!"_

"_A murder?" Harry had not expected anything this _bad. "Who?"

"Parvati and Padma Patil, sir, and…"

She went pale.

"And what?" Harry's voice was firm, but underneath, he was secretly devastated. Parvati and Padma - dead? He couldn't believe it. The twins had been in Dumbledore's Army, which had made them very capable in defence.

"I think you'll need to come and speak to the others, sir, I don't know all the details. And we've got the Body Squad from St Mungos examining the bodies - they haven't been moved, so not to contaminate any evidence."

Harry, with the young woman following him, swept over to the other side of the hall where the others had gathered around a table in heated discussion. As they spotted him, they all looked relieved.

"Tell me everything," Harry looked at the crowd of Aurors expectantly.

"I don't know quite how to say this, really," Laura Lovegood, Luna's cousin, said quietly, looking at him nervously. "Padma and Parvati were murdered in the same way that the Death Eaters used to kill their victims. The Body Squad have told us that they were most likely tortured into insanity before being murdered as gruesomely as possible. And… there was a… a variation of the Dark Mark branded on their foreheads."

She finished slightly breathlessly.

Harry's stomach churned. For a moment he forgot the rest of them were there and put his head into his hands. How was this possible? The Death Eaters had been hunted down and Voldemort himself was dead - who could want to continue what he had started? A sudden, horrifying thought entered Harry's head. Had some Death Eaters survived? Or even worse, was Voldemort back?

"Variation, you say?" Harry's mouth was dry and he nearly choked on the last word.

"Well, sir, it's the same skull and snake, but… but there's a lightning shaped scar on the skull's forehead. Sir." Laura finished.

As he said it, everyone's eyes flicked to Harry's forehead. Harry knew that this must be some twisted joke - perhaps some stuck up young pure blood had decided to try and scare Harry for destroying their family - but somehow it just didn't ring true.

"Take me to the scene," Harry had stood up and had reached the doors of the lifts before the Aurors had even stood up. "COME ON!"

Harry regretted shouting the moment the words passed his lips, but what was done was done.

Laura hurried forward and said, "I'll take you, sir."

"The rest of you, search for a motive - question friends, family, known enemies, everyone who has had contact with them in the last year - ask whether anyone could have reason to kill them," Harry said to the rest of the Aurors. "I would like one of you to tell Ron when he gets in that I'm trusting him to make a statement for the _Prophet _by the time I get back. Someone else get Hermione Granger from next door and tell her I need to speak with her at three o'clock today. What are you waiting for? Get back to work!"

Laura gripped his arm and Disapparated without warning, but it didn't bother Harry whatsoever - the pressing feeling was unnoticeable nowadays, and it seemed odd that it had ever made him feel so sick.

They appeared outside a house, which, Harry realised with a shudder, he had walked past on the way to the station with Ginny and the kids. Had he passed the house while the murder was happening? Could he have stopped it? Suddenly, he imagined Professor McGonagall's reaction if he voiced such doubts to her: _"Stopped them? How could you have stopped them if you didn't know what was happening? Honestly, Potter, you need to be smart to be an Auror!"_ He nearly smiled, but then he remembered.

"It happened just in here, sir," Laura led him into the red brick, Victorian built house into a wide, spacious hallway. Everything was draped in purple and gold, and the place had a kind of mystic, Seer-ish feel. It reminded Harry of Professor Trelawney's old classroom.

But Laura led him through the hall and into a large, comfortable living room. Or, at least, it would have been comfortable had the walls had not been blood splattered and there had been no dead bodies on the rug. But there was.

Harry could barely bring himself to look at the faces of his friends, who had survived so much - the Battle of the Astronomy Tower, an entire year under Voldemort's reign and the Battle of Hogwarts - but had finally met their end at the hands of some masked, cowardly _murderer_. Their faces were distorted in agony and their limbs stuck out at awkward angles. Parvati was still in her pyjamas. Harry felt the sudden urge to be sick, but he resisted - he was the Head of the Auror Office, he could not show any signs of weakness.

Three of the Body Squad were examining the bodies and hadn't noticed him come in.

"Can you determine a cause of death?" Harry asked.

"Oh," the wizard looked up and jumped before realising who they were. "Well, they've been tortured pretty badly, so it's not easy to work out what actually _killed _them, but we think that they've been subjected to the Cruciatus Curse for prolonged periods (you can tell from the angle of the limbs) and then they've been finished off quite quickly with the Killing Curse. Also, they've been branded with… well, have a look."

The Body Squad wizard moved out of the way to give Harry an unobstructed view of Padma's forehead. Her flesh was branded with Voldemort's sign, so that the skin around it had a burnt, dead look. As Laura had said, there was a blood red lightning scar on the skull's forehead.

"I want Lucius, Narcissa and Draco Malfoy to be summoned to the Auror Office tomorrow morning at ten o'clock." To Harry's knowledge, the Malfoy's were the only Death Eaters who were not still in Azkaban for their crimes.

"But, why, sir?" Laura asked, cocking her head.

"Come on, Lovegood," Harry said impatiently. "You're a clever girl… Work it out."

For a moment she continued to look confused and then a look of comprehension dawned on her face.

"Do you want me to send an owl n-"

But Laura was cut short as Ron burst into the room looking frantic.

"Harry!" he exclaimed. "Thank God you're here! There's… There's been another murder!"

"What? Who?"

Ron's voice was barely more than a whisper, "The Malfoys."


End file.
